


crescents for eyes

by neomin (kozuma)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Piercings, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, just 10k words worth of nomin being soft cuties, markhyuck if you squint, there's also chenle renjun and jisung but they're there for like 0.5 secs, top student!jeno x bad boy!nana who isnt even that bad he just wants to have fun, ur welcome uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 22:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15374637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kozuma/pseuds/neomin
Summary: Jeno doesn't know what he was thinking when he let Jaemin, someone he barely knew, take him out to skip classes just to eat at McDonald's; he doesn't know either why he seems to be unable to reject the other's invitations to sneaking out. All he knows is that Na Jaemin is bad - definitely bad for his heart.Alternatively,Jaemin takes Jeno out on adventures and makes him do things he's never done before, like having fun, breaking rules, stargazing and perhaps, falling in love.





	crescents for eyes

“This,” Jeno says between sips of his Blueberry Sprite McFloat, “isn’t really a good idea,”

At this time, on any other normal school day, Jeno would be in his front row seat, his eyes locked on the teacher, never wandering just like his mind.

Only when he’s jotting down notes do his eyes move down, going back and forth from his notebook to the blackboard or the occasional white screen when they’re being shown a PowerPoint presentation or a related video of sorts – and to nowhere else.

Alas, it just so happens that this definitely is not any other normal school day. Not when it’s time for Calculus but he’s sitting comfortably in an air-conditioned McDonalds with Na Jaemin, in the flesh, right across him.

Na Jaemin; Jaemin with the sunburnt cheeks and a bad reputation; Jaemin whose name the guidance counsellor has memorised - not for counselling in regards to personal problems but to his minor offenses; Jaemin who Jeno had been – and still is – wary of and with whom said boy, priorly, never had an actual, proper conversation with; and most definitely was he also the Na Jaemin who had the audacity and enough boldness to drag Lee Jeno out to cut classes when it’s hell week: thesis season. “You look dead, loosen up a bit,” he had reasoned when he was a metre from the ground, one hand clinging on the other side of the school wall, the other outstretched like an invitation for the other boy, who had eyes looking back up at him in surprise, to come with him.

And an invitation it was.

Jaemin, he disagrees with the word 'drag'. Jeno could have just denied the offer - the offer given to him by an acquaintance, an almost-stranger, not to mention it was on cutting classes, breaking school rules. Jaemin was almost equally surprised as Jeno was when the latter took his hand in his own, asking to be pulled up after murmuring a timid 'Okay'. There was a slight pause of disbelief before Jaemin helped pull him up the wall.

Jeno isn't the type to be reckless and break the rules when he's been taught to follow the rules his whole life. Yet here he is.

For some reason, a rush of adrenaline suddenly flowed in his blood at that moment. Maybe it was the stress finally getting onto him. Maybe it was plain curiosity. Jeno doesn't know why either. It was completely on impulse, the fact that the opportunity was right there in his face helping a lot.

Fiddling with the cell phone no one’s allowed to use within school hours in his hands, Jaemin sits on the other side of the table very casually, legs in a number four position. He’s leaning back in the chair, tilting with its two front legs lifting off the floor slightly, the foot that’s on the floor maintaining his balance.

“You can’t resist me,” he kids and maybe he’s right – at that or the fact that Jeno needs to take a rest for a while to breathe in between everything else that isn’t rest, but said student has a stubborn head – an enormous one at that – and the only time he would sleep past his bedtime is to do schoolwork even when his eyelids are heavy and his head is feeling light.

“You wish,” Another sip from his bright blue beverage, “I only came for the free food,” Jeno argues. He tilts his head down to look at the other boy and his brightly tinted red sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose, letting his milk chocolate-like brown eyes peek out until the lens only block the lower half of his vision and he can see Jaemin in natural colours not of red.

“Sure,” He says, dragging the ‘u’.

For once, his eyes flick up from his phone to Jeno in front of him. His hand shifts from its prior position and holds his phone with his thumb underneath and his index finger supporting the side, with good balance, to give way to his other hand busy slithering across the top surface of the synthetic table. His fingers hover over the last few pieces of Jeno’s french fries and Jeno quickly karate chops Jaemin’s hand with a free one of his own.

“Hey! I bought you that,” He pouts and gets the other’s stuck-out tongue in return.

Jeno ends up giving a jokingly sulky Jaemin the rest of his fries just a little later, anyway, the latter devouring all of said deep-fried cut potatoes within just seconds after the former allowed him and flashing him a grin.

The younger waits until the older is finished consuming his drink when he suggests they go play at the kiddie play place. The colourful inflatable structure of tubes and slides and pools of plastic balls can be found at the very corner of the fast food restaurant, and Jeno doesn't have to spare it a glance to reason they're both too tall to fit - to which the other points out that Jeno just wants to go back to school now that they're finished.

Jaemin can see that he's right, anyone can, especially when Jeno - although he tries hard, perhaps a bit too hard at that, not to make it obvious - keeps guiding his eyes down to his tilted wrist, lingering for a few seconds more to check if he read the time right. Curse his analogue watch, he thinks. He does it again just now to see it's around six minutes shy of being exactly eleven o'clock. Six minutes before Biology, his most dreaded class. “But it's thesis season,” he finally admits after a deep sigh. His hand moves to clutch his striped oversized sweater - one that Jaemin borrowed before sneaking out the school and took off once they got into the air conditioned McDonald's - on his lap.

It was an unspoken rule, if you're going to break the rules outside of the school's vicinity - which they're doing right now - at the very least, don't do it wearing your uniform so as not to tarnish the school's reputation.

Fanning himself with his hand, Jaemin tsks and says, “You're stressing yourself out too much. You need relax a bit, you know?”

“I know,” Jeno replies to the rhetorical question before his stubborn self grins at the other sideways. He tosses the other his sweater.

He knows what this means. Fumbling, he rushes to put the sweater on and almost pushes his head into the wrong hole, the one for the arms - understandable, since not only was it oversized, but it was Jeno's oversized sweater that it seemed big enough for Jaemin's head to fit through.

Jaemin isn't done when Jeno announces a quick “Race back to school!” and almost slams his now empty McFloat cup on the table and bolts for the door, the other boy shouting complaints about Jeno's headstart being unfair - complaints that turn into laughs when he sees Jeno pushing the door and wondering why it won't open, all when there's a 'PULL' sign sticker waving hello at him.

Jaemin quickly catches up on the other because of that, not minding the staff members looking at them weirdly when he gets out.

They're pretty quick - both thanks to their long legs - and they're pretty equal in speed: Jeno fueled with the determination not to get in any more trouble and Jaemin with wanting to beat the former; but Jaemin swears Jeno accelerated a metre per second the moment he looked at his watch.

  
“Sorry that I walked away,” Mark ends with this line and sees everyone on the lunch table is now looking at him in awe, Donghyuck even clapping lightly.

Jeno scans the area and some people from other tables seem to have been listening in on them as well, facing them even when their chairs were facing the opposite direction. One of them, with doe eyes and really soft hair dyed blue, is familiar, from a year above, perhaps? When Jeno makes eye contact, his eyes widen and he turns back around in a flash, timid; the guy resumes to listening to the blond person beside him who seems to be a close friend of his. It’s interesting to watch the two when the other is his complete opposite, loud and talkative and the blue-haired one is shy and quiet.

“So, is the hook to my upcoming song alright?” Mark asks as if the fact that all eyes are on him isn't enough to confirm.

“Of course. It's going to be a hit,” Donghyuck says, ever so supportive. He holds a thumb up; his gaze on the other's eyes lingering a few seconds too long.

“Didn't you see everyone looking at you?” Jeno says, “It's good, really.”

“It's definitely good. You're good,“ Chenle says before taking a bite of his lunch meal. “That's why you're so famous,”

“We all are,”

And they are, indeed.

Lee Minhyung, more commonly known under his English name Mark Lee, is the local SoundCloud rapper with a passion for making music. He started getting more known when signed artist Lee Taeyong retweeted a link to a song of his, and fellow rap fans flocked over to him. 

He wishes he could delete all his viral musical.ly videos from the internet and everyone's minds, though. Donghyuck mocks him for those, sometimes. Mark has tried to delete some of them but it doesn't really work when they're already reposted to a number of other sites - not to mention a bunch of them are even downloaded on Donghyuck's phone for future reference.

Zhong Chenle, more commonly known as just Chenle, or sometimes as the You Raise Me Up Boy - don't call him that - went globally viral for his cover of You Raise Me Up which he posted on YouTube along with several more of his other covers. He’s much more well-known in mainland China where he comes from, having entered several singing competitions as a child. Globally, however, the hype died quickly, like one’s typical fifteen seconds of internet fame, but up to this day, he still hears someone humming You Raise Me Up whenever he walks down the hallway. It reminds him of a same-age friend of his from China, Qian Zhenghao – City of Stars Boy - who, similarly, got viral for his cover of City of Stars from the musical film La La Land.

They're two people no one expected would be close to each other given their differing auras: Chenle being more on the cute side, Mark more on the cool. It's mostly their mutual friends bringing them together, and the fact that Mark’s not really as intimidating as everyone makes him out to be.

There's Lee Donghyuck, three years ahead of the others and also the only one remotely average. He's very popular, but only in school rather than nationwide like the other two. He's known for his good looks, getting gold in all the piano competitions, and for acting the male leads in the anuual school plays. He always jokes about being famous soon, always bugging Mark to let them collaborate in a preferably R&B track.

Jeno's popular for being the top ranking student in the whole grade level, and being high-paid actor and OST singer Lee Taeil's brother - mostly for the latter, which he'd rather not be famous for; he'd rather be known as his own: as Lee Jeno, but no one seems to get that.

It's the truth. People seem to put you on a pedestal if you're popular. People want to befriend and talk to you only because you are. So Jeno, although being super bubbly and friendly, doesn't really trust or let himself be super close with just anyone.

It came off a bit of a shock when he introduced Jaemin, now their latest addition. He's a bit late, only coming in now, a tray holding a cup of juice and a plate of food in his hands. Jeno is sitting next to Chenle, Mark next to Donghyuck. Jaemin sits next to Mark so he's right in front Jeno, forming possibly the world's loudest trio. He's definitely not on the same level as the other four, but he's pretty popular among the students himself - for being the resident prankster and a semi-delinquent, which is exactly why it was a shock he became friends first with Jeno out of all people.

It all started when Jaemin took Jeno out to McDonald's. After that day, outside of class, they pass by each other in the hallways more often than before - either that or they just notice each other since. It escalates in the span of and a few days, until they reach this point.

A small, pink sphere appears from between Jaemin's lips and Jeno immediately scolds him for chewing bubble gum within the school premises.

He deflates it and chews a bit more. Between, he says “Aren't you used to me already, Mr. Lee?” then he blows a bubble again.

Jeno rolls his eyes and leans in; he threatens to poke the bubble. Jaemin avoids Jeno's finger but it pops all over his lips anyways, cueing some laughs from the table.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” Jeno winks, trying to hold his laugh in.

Jaemin just rolls his eyes back at him.

  
Brown.

The most basic way you could describe it.

Jaemin stands in the doorway of the library, the rush of cool air from the door swinging giving him subtle chills.

It was unfamiliar to Jaemin, having entered a library only once or maybe twice in his lifetime. He's passed by their high school's local library a lot of times to have an idea of what the interior looks like, but he hasn't really gone inside - not that he doesn't care about his studies like what most people would assume due to his carefree troublemaker reputation, but it was simply because he relies on the internet for information and PDFs if he were to read a novel, which, only happens occasionally as he was more of a movie kind of person. So he stays there, observing the sight before him.

And it's brown.

There is the light brown of the tables occupied by students and their laptops and sometimes towering stacks of papers, the dark brown of the wooden floor and the even darker brown of the bookshelves standing tall and showcasing books of different widths and heights and spines of different colours all containing the same cream pages - some darker than others - perhaps the same words and definitely the same twenty-six letters being the pillars for yet completely different purposes and stories.

All brown, different shades, but still all are brown.

And somehow, it even smells brown, precisely like the calming scent of brittle book pages partnered with a cup of coffee.

A cup of coffee, right. Busy gaping at the largeness of the school facility he's in, Jaemin almost forgets he has one in his hands - one to be brought to the bearer of the most familiar brown that he knows.

He scans the library to see Jeno in his usual seat - not that he knows - fingers pressing on keys, dashing furiously across his keyboard, sparing the stack of papers beside him a few glances from time to time.

Right there is Lee Jeno; Jeno with the black-brown hair sweeping over his brown crescents for eyes when he smiles - the brown eyes that look dark enough to be mistaken for black in certain lighting, like at this very moment, but are rich with the colour of leaves in the early autumn when the sunlight finally hits.

Jeno doesn't hear the sound of the cup settling on the table nor Jaemin clearing his throat over the music blaring from his earphones. He only notices the other's presence when a hand comes between him an his laptop screen, waving for his attention. When he turns to the owner of the hand and sees it's Jaemin, that's when he stops typing and takes out one earpiece.

“I thought I told you not to overwork yourself?” Jaemin says, whispering to not disturb all the other students around them.

They - the students - all look almost the same, some of them with books instead of papers or using the library's provided computers instead of their own laptops. But their tired, stressed, lifeless stature and eyes look the same. Except for Jeno, who had the same exhausted aura yet managed to stand out to Jaemin. Perhaps it's mostly because he's Jeno.

Whatever that may mean.

Jeno shrugs, getting a sigh from the other in return as he places the cup of coffee a safe distance from the papers. “Here,” he says, still whispering, careful; and perhaps this is the most quiet Jeno has ever heard Jaemin talk.

Just like any kind of food, drinks like coffee were once banned in the library. A few students staying up in the library in the dead of the night, some of them falling asleep, later, they realise the students do need coffee more than anything if the teachers keep bombarding them with much work.

“Thanks,” he says, not looking up. By that time, Jeno's already back to typing, the small noises the keys make almost in sync with those of the others'. “And don't take me out somewhere right now, please. Or later.”

“I wont if you say so,” Jaemin says, Jeno nodding in response.

Jaemin notices the one earpiece still on the table - perhaps it could be Jeno anticipating further conversation with him? However, he knows he's a big distraction - so he picks it up and slides it back in Jeno's ear.

Along with the pat on the back, Jaemin whispers the other good luck, but too quiet that he knows the other can't have heard him over the music.

  
Jeno's other friends, Mark mostly, have been asking him why he seemed to smile more lately. It makes him think. No, he always smiles, anytime and to anyone; he made it a habit. Perhaps they meant to ask why he seemed to smile even brighter than before, or as if it came without him having to force or think about it.

Jeno doesn't notice things about himself much of course.

He's walking down the halls with Mark and Donghyuck. No need to hurry, they all still have ten minutes left before they separate, dispersing to their next classes - Mark is a junior; Donghyuck's in the same year level as Jeno, but he's in another class along with Renjun, another friend of theirs that hangs out more in another group – coincidentally Jaemin’s; and, Chenle’s a freshman. Jeno isn't left alone now, having Jaemin with him.

It's the same question again - from Mark, again - because Jeno is smiling, again, and it's brushed off with another 'I don't know.' accompanied with a shrug.

Looking at Jeno, he does seem to have a different smile lately. His smiles, genuine or not, always look real and natural, the crescents formed by his eyes really doing the most. This smile spreads to his whole face, it's a bit asymmetrical and there's a light tension in his upper lip that almost vanishes, almost showing his gums, the curved line in his eyes more curved than ever.

They just talk about something else - about Donghyuck's new upcoming play, where they assured Donghyuck would definitely do great at. Mark and Donghyuck brush hands when they sway arms as they walk. Jeno notices, looking at the two suspiciously. Mark almost retracts; Donghyuck moving closer to Mark now, just winks at Jeno, saying something without actually saying anything.

Maybe Jeno wants something like that.

  
Quiet.

But not much peace. Not with the soft sounds now amplified: the insistent tapping of pens on chairs, some light snoring from the back of the classroom - nothing to be surprised about - the whirring from the air conditioner, the sound of chalk tapping and making strokes on the blackboard and the louder than usual tick-tocking of the analogue clock placed right above the door. Not when their defense is approaching, closer and closer, one day at a time.

It's the perfect time to sleep - as seen as a fee of them have fallen into it already - with the perfect ambience of quietness and coolness of the room, but break time is smiling at them, telling them hello. The door is beneath the clock, waiting for itself to be opened by eager students in an half hour.

Jeno fights back the urge to yawn.

He sucks in a sharp breath and holds it in for ten, twenty, thirty, forty, seconds until he can't take it anymore. On reflex, his brain commands him to finally breath out feeling lightheaded with his heart thumping in his chest. His eyes growing naturally wider after their previous halfway-through-closing state.

He read somewhere that this is a great technique to keep yourself awake, by speeding up your heartbeat for a few seconds. This is the first time he's used it, though, and he sees that it does work - something he should do every time he feels sleepy in class, or anywhere. Not that he has intentions to let himself be sleepy again; he'd like to avoid it as much as possible.

He was never the type to get sleepy in school during a lecture, no matter how boring it was - which, right now, might just be the single most boring class he has been in - but he stayed up all night the previous night - a special thank you to Jaemin and his cup of coffee - motivated to finally take care of the final chapter of his thesis, rendering him tired and of course, sleepy.

His eyes shoot open when something light and somehow pointy hits him on the back of his head, which bounces back a little bit and falls down to the floor not far from him.

It's a paper airplane, and he doesn't have to think to know it's Jaemin, because who else would do that? Maybe Donghyuck, but he isn't even in the same class.

He looks at the teacher - who's still writing points on the board without a sound, absolutely losing all engagement with her students, thus making her students more disinterested than they usually are - first before picking up the paper airplane from beside him. He accidentally pushes his chair back, screeching against the floor slightly.

Unfolding the paper to reveal a note, it's written in cute, messy handwriting with, at the corner, a finishing a doodle of . . . a dog? a cat? a bunny? Jeno can't tell.

Can I take you out tonight?

The wording, as much as Jeno wouldn't like to admit to himself, flusters him for a few seconds, so he doesn't turn back around to respond until a few seconds later.

I can't.

Jeno mouths, because he can't - or doesn't want to - throw an airplane back to the boy who sits behind him by three rows. He quickly glances at the teacher to check, before he waits for Jaemin's response, which is, just an admittedly cute pout. Looking behind him, he tries not to pay attention to some of their classmates looking at them.

Why?

Jaemin mouths back the one word clearly, only to get from the older boy a long and unreadable response back. Jaemin figures it's something along the lines of 'I'm not allowed to go out,' but nevertheless, he takes another of his scratch paper to write down his reply.

He gives Jeno another airplane, his throw perhaps angled a bit too high that it almost flies above Jeno. Good thing he caught it mid-air before it ends up at the very front of the class, right on the space the teacher walks in.

I'm sneaking in, anyway.

Jeno chuckles and turns back to look at Jaemin one last time.

Good luck.

Jeno's eyes are completely open, the sleepiness having left him. Unknown, unrealised to him why, but for some reason, he hears his blood pulsing in his ears, as if he's out of breath again.

  
It's ten in the evening and Jeno is already tucked in bed; a blanket is raised up to his chest. After working on his thesis some more, he decided to read a novel one of the seniors - Dongyoung - had recommended him, the lamp on his bedside table his only source of light. It seems like the moon is absent tonight, lost in the shadow of the Earth; and it's not like the tiny stars can illuminate the place like the moon does. Artificial light will have to do.

He licks the pad of his thumb, flipping through the pages one by one.

It's to his surprise when a familiar silhouette pops out from behind the transparent door to the terrace. It takes time for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, and his heart jumps at the thought of an intruder, shuffling backwards on his bed until his back is propped against the headboard, book almost slipping from his hands. When he squints, he makes out Jaemin's face in the shadows.

Jaemin makes a very unromantic Romeo.

Sighing in huge relief, Jeno pauses for a few seconds to regain his breath. He makes sure to make a tiny fold in the corner of the page he was last reading from before setting it down on the table.

He meets Jaemin at the terrace, and as soon as they do he punches him on the arm lightly. “I told you I can't,”

Giving a lopsided grin, “You can't resist me,” Jaemin repeats before lifting his leg over the railing, holding tight, leading his foot to the step of the ladder. Jeno's breath hitches in his throat when he watches Jaemin climb his way down. He's not that far from the ground but it's terrifying.

Jaemin hops off and lands on the ground safely, he looks up at Jeno with reassuring eyes as his hands grab the sides of the ladder to keep it in its place. Jeno takes a deep breath - or two - before he follows. It's interesting how the first time they snuck out, Jaemin helped Jeno climb up; for the second time, he's helping him climb down.

When Jeno reaches the ground he almost hugs the other boy in relief but he thinks not to before he could actually do it.

His nervousness doesn't wear off until they make it pass their gate. Now that they're out in the streets, he can finally breathe. The cool breeze of the night wind is tickling his skin as much as the feeling of Jaemin's hand brushing against his when their arms sway as they walk and both of them pretend not to notice.

Skipping over sidewalk cracks with a half-hop, Jaemin looks best when he's under the starlight.

“So where do you wanna go?” When Jeno is asked this, he remembers they're not just out here to walk around under the starry night the only thing listening to their conversation. He wouldn't mind though, as long as he's with the other.

“I don't know, movies at your place?” he suggests from the top of his head. He never went out at night, and he barely does during daytime; he doesn't know where to go or what to do.

“I'd definitely want to bring you to my place but,” Jaemin says, “Watching movies is bad for first dates,”

Losing focus because of the statement, precisely the word ‘date’, Jeno finds himself doubling over, rubbing his knee in an attempt to lessen the pain. He bumped into the fire hydrant and Jaemin laughs for five seconds before asking if the other is okay.

“I-Is,“ he stutters out, “this a date?” Jeno asks, standing up straight but bending down every once in a while to touch his hurt knee, and Jaemin giggles at how it's the first thing Jeno says, even before assuring he's alright.

Jaemin hums softly as he starts walking again, ahead of Jeno, with an expression the other can't see because he's facing his back. “It can be whatever you think it is,”

“I say I think I'm being kidnapped, then.”

  
Now, they're standing in front of the gate of a huge golf field. This isn't any of the places Jeno thought Jaemin might bring him when the latter said 'Ah, I know a place. Come on.' and grabbed the former by the wrist, sprinting to the bus stop.

“You're taking me out to play golf?” Jeno says a bit too loud, which he only realises when Jaemin turns to his direction and raises a finger to his chapped lips, telling him to shush. Then he has another realisation. They only need to be quiet if they're trespassing - which they are; it shouldn't be surprising anymore, being with Jaemin. “You don't have a membership to enter, do you?” Jeno asks again, this time a bit quieter, but not quiet enough for the other to disregard.

Instead of on his own lips, Jaemin raises his finger to Jeno's, hovering a few millimetres from contact.

All complaints and questions died on Jeno's lips; he looks down from Jaemin's face to the finger before his lips, his eyes involuntarily crossing. He blinks it off and looks back at Jaemin who is looking with a look that practically says “Do I look like someone who would have a golf club membership?”

Around Jeno, it's officially the most quiet Jaemin has ever been. Jaemin only mouths a 'You'll see.' at him.

Experienced, it's always Jaemin who climbs up walls and gates first to help the other who seconds. Once they got in, he runs to the open field, Jeno dashing to catch up with him.

He sees Jaemin plop down right in the middle of the grass field. He's still wondering what exactly the other is doing, but he lies down right next to him anyway.

Jaemin points at the moonless night sky. “This is what I wanted to show you,”

Jeno is in awe when he looks up to see the same stars he saw a while ago but this time with ten, hundred, maybe even a thousand, times more other stars around them.

It's different, different from the stars you see in the city. City stars can barely be seen, masked by the sea of artificial light from below them. Now there's a city of stars right above them in their full glory.

The darkest nights truly do bring out the stars.

They're alone with a whole galaxy right above them, grass blades tickling their necks and all other uncovered skin; the stars lean in to listen to their conversations.

Jaemin’s eyes catch something and lips form an ‘o’ - a silent interjection. “Look at those stars,” He raises his arm to point as he’s looking from the sky above them to Jeno beside him and back again.

The other boy’s eyes almost follow the direction Jaemin’s finger is pointing at. “You know we’re lying under a whole sky full of stars, right?”

“Yeah, I mean those two really bright stars over there,”

Jeno has to stare at the pointed area for a few seconds before he sees it. Two stars, close in proximity, shining a few magnitudes brighter than the rest of those surrounding them. It’s actually very noticeable, Jeno having overlooked it only because of being overwhelmed by the sky’s vastness and the number of stars it can hold.

Jaemin looks at Jeno; he opens his mouth to say something but he closes it almost immediately. He doesn’t say anything and lets his gaze almost bore holes through the other boy, who doesn’t notice because he’s too busy gaping at the stars. “They look like your moles,” he says, sounding like it’s something else in place of whatever he might be originally going to say. It wasn’t wrong either; Jeno;s moles right at the corner of his right eye and lower on his right cheek. “That constellation over there, though,” he points at the other side of the sky. “Looks like Donghyuck's face moles.” 

Jeno squints as he looks for the exact, and chuckles. “You’re actually right,. That;s Ursa Minor.”

”Ursa Minor . . . sounds pretty,” he says, “just like you.”

Jeno feels his face burning up for some reason and he turns away in embarrassment. “Stop liking me,” he attempts to say without it sounding choked out.

”You liked me first.” 

  
Right after hopping off from the bus, Jaemin checks up on the other's knee - it's alright now - before he declares a race to the nearest playground.

It's empty except for them. The scene looks perfect and liminal, as if the whole world paused for them alone to watch. The swings move back and forth subtly, dancing along with the strong breeze. Jaemin occupies one of the seats and swings lightly, pushing himself off the ground, not very strong. Jeno thinks he looks especially good with the lighting and background.

He hadn't bothered to check the time, he only notices it's a half hour until midnight when he opens his phone to snap a picture of the other. Jaemin looks, hearing the click of the camera and smiles at him.

Jeno joins him later, swinging along.

It's nice.

It's unfamiliar to him and his routine schedule. At any normal day, he would be sleeping, doing school work or reading something. This isn't any normal day. No, not with the wind crashing against him as he swings, his hair being pushed back. He feels free.

In addition, it's nice to be alone, but together with someone, with that one person; it's nice to be alone together.

And it's nice to be free. Free from rules - or perhaps it's nice to free yourself from the pressure of following rules no one can avoid. There are always rules, but there are ones you choose - in some cases, should choose - to break, not out of spite of authority, but to let yourself be free. To be free from all worries, responsibilities, even just for a few moments, before you re-enter reality and start to drown yourself in all these worries, no matter how small, no matter how big they can get.

As long as you're not hurting anyone, as long as you aren't stepping on other people's rights when you run for what you want, it doesn't hurt to break the rules a little once in a while. Jaemin taught him this, not verbally, but from his observation.

He doesn't notice a smile forming on his face.

“Do you have any hobbies? Or a dream?” Jaemin asks, starting up a conversation.

Still swinging, Jeno hates that question, because he knows he's got nothing. “Listening to music and reading?”

“Ah,“ Jaemin gently puts his foot on the ground, stopping the swing. “Those are hobbies but, any ones where you create something? Like, entirely from you? Like creating the music other people could listen to,”

He's tried to rap like Mark, a few times before, but he wouldn't want to consider it a hobby unless he's already good at it, with little room for further improvement - which doesn't make sense, he knows that. He isn't sure he wants see himself chasing a dream like that, either - a dream with no promises.

“You just study and read all day?” Jaemin asks, taking the silence as a response.

“Yeah?”

Jaemin scoffs. “Right. Boring.” He's right, and Jeno knows it.

“What do you do all day anyway, besides going out and doing what you're not supposed to do?” Jeno directs the question to the other.

He skids to a stop, his heel on the ground. There might be one thing. “Dance,” he just says, quite unsure, knowing he was talking to Jaemin who happened to have joined the school’s dance club recently.

“Why didn’t you say so?” His eyes light up. “Dance for me, please?”

Jeno hesitates, but orders Jaemin to put his phone on shuffle.

X (EQUIS) - the words pop out in the screen. It’s a song he downloaded when Jisung, his friend, was choreographing it. Jaemin presses on the volume up button until the bar says it's completely turned up. Then Jeno dances in front of him and his jaw drops.

Jeno’s hesitancy would suggest he’s not good, but he is and he’s just not confident. To say he dances well is an understatement. Fluid, but sharp in all the right places when he needs to. Jaemin can't tell if he's freestyling or he knows a choreography to the song beforehand. It's like Jeno doesn't even have to think, like his body has memorised this move and the move after that.

Jeno does look better in the starlight - his smile shining almost as bright as the sun when his eyes are like the moon. It's a wide one, corners stretching out almost from ear to ear. He always thought to dance like no one's watching - no need to impress anyone, as long as you're happy doing what you're doing. He's so into the moment and he doesn't even notice the way Jaemin is looking at him until a few moments later; he gets an idea.

“Come on,” Jeno stops dancing to approach a wide-eyed Jaemin with a warm, welcoming smile on his face. A hand is reached out like another invitation.

“I dance but,” Jaemin admits and looks at the hand in front of him pitifully. “I barely just started, I'm not that good,” False, he’s been dancing a little bit over three years ago, but ever since recovering from an injury, dancing again feels foreign to him. The other doesn’t know that.

Jeno just smiles at him.

“You don't have to be,”

It's right after the first chorus. Jaemin doesn’t move his legs much, just his arms and he moves them awkwardly, not able to do complex moves, used to doing choreographed dances - and even if he did know how to, he wouldn't be able to think of a move after a move just like this, on the spot. He couldn’t recall Jisung’s moves to this part, either,

A few more moments later, Jaemin steps away to watch the other continue. His feet move backward, slowly as not to trip, and sits on the swing again, eyes locked on Jeno - who plucked a flower out from nowhere and put it between his lips as he keeps on dancing - the whole time.

“That was fun,” Jeno admits when the music stops and he comes back to sit next to Jaemin. “I’ve never really had an audience of sorts.”

”You were amazing! You really need to be more confident. You’re a hundred times better than me. Really great, really,” he compliments. “Why don't you join the dance club with me next year? Since you don't do anything but study, anyway - and dancing alone.”

“Join the dance club, be the worst dancer and possibly perform next to dance legend, dance king, dance god, Ten?” Jeno reasons. He doesn't want to let other people witness him starting anywhere but from the top; and, being with the best dancer in school would just give him a lot of pressure. “I'll pass,” he says, trying to coat his voice with a light tone.

Jaemin knows the other means it. “You're making it sound like you’re not good. Hell, you’re not the best of the best but you’re still one of the best I’ve seen, and I’m not just saying it. Don’t tell Jisung this. but you’re just as good, if not even better,” He looks at the other, the gleam in his eyes turning serious. “And you don't have to be the best, or even just good, at everything, plus, there's always a starting point for everything, you know?”

“I know,” He sighs, looking down at his feet. “It's just hard when people, mostly my parents, expect that from me, especially with my brother . . .” and he trails off.

“You're not your brother’s brother. Well, you literally are, but - you'll be known as Lee Jeno soon enough, for what you'll be able to do in the future. Cheer up.” At the last word he gives the other a ruffle on his hair. Walking behind him, he places his hand on his back and pushes him gently.

Holding onto the chains and lifting his feet off the floor, Jeno closes his eyes and lets himself feel the wind.

  
“I kinda want a piercing,” Jeno says, completely out of the blue, halfway through their second movie. The other's eyebrow raises at the sudden statement.

They're lounging on the couch, feet up on the wooden table. Jaemin invited the other to his home this time, instead of going out to explore.

Jeno thinks he likes this more, knowing more about the other; not being tired, out and about; feeling home even if he's not in his own home. Jaemin's mother is a sweetheart too, having prepared them a sweet smile and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Now the cookies are all gone, they're marathoning movies in the living room, like his first suggestion.

He reaches out to tug on Jaemin's dangly earring out of curiosity, the lobe of the other's ear being pulled down along with it, but gentle enough for it not to hurt. Along the process, he notices Jaemin has another one cuffing on his cartilage.

“Let's go out then,” Jaemin suggests, completely forgetting the movie still playing on screen, “I'm sure there are open shops at this hour,” He almost stands up before Jeno speaks again, about how he would need parents' approval for it since he's not of legal age.

To that, Jaemin answers that he actually doesn't know if Jeno would need it, scratching his head.

“Huh? That's what I know, at least. How did you get that then?” Jeno tilts his head in puzzlement.

“I did it myself,” he clarifies. “Once. This one,” He uncuffs the helix piercing from his ear, showing it to be fake, “isn't real, I'm still hesitant on actually getting one. They say it's a lot more risky. Yuta hyung let me do his sixth piercing, though, I'm good as long as it's the lobe.”

“Oh, I see,” he says before a pause. “Do it to me then,” he continues to which the other raises an eyebrow at.

“I'm touched you would trust me to pierce a hole through your ear,” Jaemin says jokingly, putting his hand over heart.

“Do it before my trust expires, then,”

“Wait, are you being serious?” Jaemin realises when he notices Jeno is looking at him eagerly, as if he's been waiting for Jaemin to start moving.

“You suggested we go out and you're asking now if I'm being serious?” he says.

Jaemin shrugs. “Fair point,”

After a few more minutes of talking, more clarifications whether or not Jeno is serious and whether or not his parents would approve - which, they wouldn't, but it's not like they would force him to take it out let it close once it's been done - since it wouldn't be easy hiding it for six weeks - or even six days - Jaemin stood up to go and sterilise a safety pin and grab an ice cub from the freezer, all after remembering to pause the movie first.

He comes back with a plastic of ice cube in his hand, which the other eyes curiously. “What's that for?”

“It's to numb your ear, so it won't hurt,” Jaemin says. He gestures for Jeno to sit up straight. He almost presses the ice cube to Jeno's left ear, but he stops, the ice cube hovering a few millimetres away from direct contact. “Left or right ear?”

“Left?” Jeno says, more of a question than a statement. It doesn't really matter much. So Jaemin nods and continues. Jeno shivers when he felt the pure coldness on the skin of his ear.

With his free hand, Jaemin takes the other's left hand by the wrist. Jeno flinches, eyes widening a little, when he feels some sort of electric shock right on the skin Jaemin is touching. Jaemin leads Jeno's hand to his own ear, telling him to hold the ice cube in place.

Jaemin takes Jeno's phone on the table and he wonders why in the world it doesn't have a case. It gives him anxiety holding it, as if he were to balance a tray of wine glasses on his hands. It gives him even more anxiety seeing Jeno holding his phone with the same lazy grip, knowing how clumsy he can be, the expensive phone completely unprotected and delicate - screen smashing into pieces with a drop or two.

He clicks on the power button to be greeted with Jeno's face on the lockscreen and he tries not to snicker. When Jaemin brings it up to his face a padlock appears on the screen and shakes, bringing him to the screen that tells him face detection failed so he should enter the four-digit PIN instead. Jeno never told him the password but he figures it out anyway.

0 - 4 - 2 - 3.

Predictable.

It takes him to the home screen as soon as the pad of his finger lands on the number three. He's greeted with Jeno's face in the wallpaper again, this time with a more scenic background than the first.

Going to the Clock app, after seeing Jeno has six alarms from 6:00 to 6:30 AM, each with five minute intervals between the other, Jaemin sets the timer to ten minutes. He usually used five minutes when piercing himself, but it still hurt, so he's setting it to ten minutes to completely numb Jeno's ear.

“It kinda hurts,” Jeno says around three minutes later, “the ice.” The coldness has spread all over his earlobe, and right under the spot the ice cube is pressing, pain.

Jeno switches hands, his right hand now holding the ice cube. His left hand, the pads of his fingers damp, he presses the nail of his thumb on them sharply, one by one and it feels as though he isn't doing it.

“Yeah, that hurts more than the actual piercing,” Jaemin assures.

Another three minutes later and Jeno's arm is about to go numb by having to be raised up for that long, his fingers the same but because of the ice. Jaemin offers to hold it for him.

Four minutes and another switch of hands later, the shoulder of Jeno's tee is wet, condensed water dripping from the surface of the plastic.

Jaemin flicks his ear but he doesn't even notice. “Do you feel anything?” the other asks, to which he replies 'Not a thing.' When his eyes move to the side, that's when he sees Jaemin doing it again.

“I've always wanted to do this,” Jaemin jokes, flicking again since Jeno can't feel it anyway.

“Shut up and do your thing,”

“Yessir,” Before the numbness can start to wear off, Jaemin takes the safety pin and hovers it over the middle spot on the other's earlobe. “Here?”

“A bit more to the right,” And Jaemin does as he's ordered.

Jeno doesn't notice when the safety pin has already pierced through his ear. He only notices when he sees Jaemin walk away, ice bag in his hand, tossing it away.

He touches the pin, unfamiliar with the feeling of having something right through his skin. “Woah,”

“Don't touch it a lot,” Jaemin warns, having returned. “Might get infected,”

“Oh, thanks,” Jeno says, “When I can take this out already, I'm getting a personalised earring with my name on it,” he jokes, referencing one of Jaemin's big earrings saying 'JAEMIN'. “Who even does that?”

“Yah, I do!” He playfully punches the other's arm, “As if you don't have a pair of eyeglasses with your name already.”

“Touché.”

  
Booths are all set up, strings of light decorating and illuminating the scene. It's quite bright and lively for a dark night. The cacophony of busy sounds drowning out the loudest whispers.

It's the late evening and they're out having fun at a rival school's annual night fair. It's a pity they weren't early enough to watch several performers play on stage. They see so on the poster - at seven thirty, some other groups every thirty minutes until the last one at ten, barely missing by an hour.

Jeno looks at his wrist to realise he doesn't have a watch. Chuckling to himself, he clicks on the power button of his phone to check. Eleven post meridiem, 23:00.

Jaemin’s wearing a red turtleneck tonight, his hair styled in a comma, but what’s more eye-catching is that he wore his JAEMIN earring to match Jeno’s JENO glasses. At one point this night, Jaemin borrows Jeno’s glasses and asks Jeno to take a few pictures of him in different angles to show their names.

Something catches Jaemin's eye. He changed the other's lockscreen to himself on the swings on that night - the one Jeno took - when he got a hold of the phone when they had a movie marathon at his house. And if he saw correctly, Jeno didn't bother changing it.

He doesn't question it. Instead he drags Jeno to the nearest jewellery booth.

Jeno checks out the different dangly earrings they have on display, then suddenly remembers he has to keep the pin on for a few more weeks before changing to a different earring. He just ends up buying two identical chain bracelets - one for each of them.

  
They're lying on Jeno's bed; Jaemin can't get past the bedroom because Jeno's parents would flip, finding a friend of Jeno snuck in their house. There are tiny, glow in the dark stickers of stars on the ceiling, shining neon green. He got it ever since he got his own room in his adolescence, and never took them out, even if he grew up to be tall enough to just pluck them off the surface if he stood on the bed. All this time, he thinks, if only they weren't coloured, you could think of it as an actual sky of stars staring right back at you.

Jaemin saw Jeno had a whole collection of rings, necklaces, bracelets and the like, but he notices he's only wearing the bracelet he got for the two of them - which is what he's looking at now under the insufficient light.

”Jaemin,”

”Hmm?”

”Jaemin-ah,”

”Hmm?”

“I've,” he starts, “never really seen you down before.”

“Do you want to see me down?” he jokes, then turns serious. “I'm afraid people will think I'm apathetic, it's just . . . when all my friends are down, I laugh not because I'm enjoying myself but because I'm trying to lighten the mood,

“I want to be the star that keeps on shining even in the darkest nights you know. I'm not asking to be like the North Star that gives them direction, because sometimes, most of the time, I don't even know where I'm going. I just want to be any kind of star, you know, as long as it's in their sky.”

“I have a favourite star,” Jeno wants to say something like 'That was by far the deepest thing you've said.' but says this anyway. “It's called Mira Ceti . . . Omicron Ceti . . . or just, Mira,” He turns to look at Jaemin, seeing if the other knows what Mira is - he doesn't, not possessing the same knowledge Jeno gained from reading all the time. “It's a really unique star,

“Some nights it's the brightest star, other nights it's the dimmest in the whole sky. The people back then thought they're two different starts, but it's just Mira, changing it's brightness from time to time; other stars don't do that. Sometimes you don't even notice it's there, even if it always is.”

“You're saying you're Mira?”

“I would like to be,”

“Then I'll let you be the Mira in my night sky,”

  
"Have you ever went to an amusement park?" Jaemin speaks over the voice in the intercom announcing their arrival. All of a sudden, the vehicle jerks to an abrupt halt, its momentum making Jaemin, standing with his lazy grip on the hanging strap, lose all balance and tumble forward, almost right into Jeno.

Jeno grabs Jaemin's wrist with one hand - the other gripping on the strap tight enough to support both their weights - to keep him from falling face first on the floor. The younger's hand is on the other's shoulder, eyes locked to the shoulder in front of them and he's suddenly aware of the beating of his heart.

Jaemin snaps out of it when the doors open, revealing passengers and making way for slightly warmer air now rushing inside the subway.

Some passengers walk out, some stay in their seats - or just spots if they were standing. Jeno tugs at Jaemin when he sees two now vacant seats next to each other and so they sit. There is one more stop until they reach their destination.

"We did one time," Jeno answers when he is seated, not forgetting the question. “Around seven years ago,"

“That’s a long time,” Jaemin says, “Good thing for you, then, because that's where we're going.”

  
Jeno is about to slide the cashier the exact amount of money for their tickets when Jaemin stops him, saying he'll pay for them.

“But I want to pay you back,”

“You don't have to,” Jaemin starts digging for money in his wallet. “And I'm rich anyway.” He pulls out a couple bills enough to pay for the two of them.

“I thought you were Jaemin,” Jeno says, and when Jaemin pauses to react to the cold joke, rolling his eyes, he makes use of the moment, almost shoving his own money into the cashier's hands.

Jaemin only realises what's happening when the cashier is already giving them their tickets and asking for those next in line. Jeno grins at him slyly before they walk away, giving way to the persons behind them waiting to get their tickets.

“So where do you want to go first?” Jaemin asks, scanning the attractions in front of them.

“Rollercoaster?” Jeno points to the highest ride he sees, marveling at the number of loops it has. “Unless you're afraid of heights,”

“Doesn't matter,” Jaemin replies and races with him to the start of the line. It's night time, the fourth quarter of the day, explaining why there isn't that much people in the queue, being able to get on just a few minutes later.

Jeno regrets not taking his glasses off beforehand when just five seconds in he feels his specs slipping from the bridge of his nose, so he holds onto it harder than the rail in front of him. Jaemin, beside him, is yelling for the whole ride not out of fear, but of excitement - then Jeno is there, also yelling but for his glasses, to which Jaemin lets a loud laugh at.

When the ride ends, they're shown a photograph of them taken mid-ride and Jaemin almost doubles over seeing the other's panicked face, and maybe their other ride companions' faces, paying for the copy instantly.

Next was the ghost house, in which Jaemin looks cool the first few seconds until a ghost taps him from behind. He only lets out a quiet, surprised 'Ah.' and continues walking, grabbing Jeno by the wrist and noticeably faster than his normal rate of walking.

A few more - or a lot of - rides later, they're sitting on the bench. Only one unused ticket is left in each of their hands: the ferris wheel, saved for last. It's around thirty minutes before the amusement park closes; it always does at exactly midnight. The two of them sat down first to enjoy their pastel-coloured cotton candies; Jaemin had the blue, bubblegum flavoured one, Jeno the pink, strawberry one.

Similarly, Jaemin stands up to snap a quick picture on his own phone of Jeno with his strawberry cotton candy. The other catches him and smiles.

He looked good under the starlight, the moonlight, street lights and string lights.

Jaemin sits back down; flipping his phone's camera to selfie mode, he holds his phone up. He holds his blue cotton candy up as well, right next to Jeno's pink one. It's their first picture together.

In the end, they look best when they're together.

  
The vibrant lights on the ferris wheel flicker to different colours each time. It's late at night already and they're just I'm time for the last rotation, the operator says as they hand them their tickets. When they get in the pod the operator closes the gate behind them.

Cool air is coming from above them in the pod. “I didn't know these can be air conditioned,” Jeno says, and he sees Jaemin in front of him rubbing his arms to create friction.

Jeno leans forward and backward in not careful but sudden motions, making the pod rock back and forth, chuckling. The other looks at him in horror, telling him to stop, scared.

“Thought it didn't matter,”

“Shut up,”

Suddenly the light shines perfectly on Jaemin's face, reminding the other of when they first snuck out at night, roaming the streets.

Jeno looks at the window to see mostly darkness dimly lit amusement park attractions below them. Shifting his gaze to the distant sky, twinkling specks of white greet him - not a lot of them, though, unlike the first time Jaemin took him out in the late night to stargaze in the open field.

He notices, not there before the preceding nights, a thin crescent shaped light that has appeared in the midst of the other small dot-like lights surrounding it. The moon, from it's previous new moon state, is starting to wax. Near it does he notice the same two bright stars from earlier, their light stealing attention from the moon and all the other stars; he doesn't notice it but he smiles.

There are at least three crescent moons out tonight.

There’s only one star Jaemin needs, and that particular star is equipped with a blinding smile and crescents for eyes.

Jeno doesn't try to find any words but the words find him instead. “City of stars,” he starts quietly, no more than a whisper, like he's mumbling to the window and the view behind it. The pause is longer than it's supposed to, but he resumes, a bit louder than how he started. “Are you shining just for me,”

If Jaemin couldn't hear the first time, he can now; he recognises it as the song Chenle’s friend, Qian Zhenghao covered, the one that got him viral. It feels foreign, hearing the same lyrics, same words, from a different voice - not to mention it's the first time he hears said voice singing rather than talking, which makes it twice as unfamiliar .

“A rush . . . a glance,” This is the moment Jeno turns to see the other boy staring at him, but is too shy to hold eye contact. “A touch, a dance, a look in somebody's eyes,” And this is when he does hold it, the comforting darkness of the pod giving him ease and assurance.

Jeno isn't sure if he's seeing this right; Jaemin is lip-syncing along to the next lines, but not opening his mouth wide enough, shy.

To light up the skies, to open the world and send it reeling, a rat-tat-tat of my heart.

“Why didn’t you tell me you could sing, too,” He tries not to stutter and feels blood rushing to his add colour to his pale cheeks; and he's thankful for the dimness the night provides. “That’s why, not your hair, your nose is so big, i-it's full of secrets,” he ends up stuttering the last moment and he wants to hide in embarrassment because of how flustered he is, and how obvious it is that he is flustered.

Na Jaemin; Jaemin with the eyes that glimmer equally under both sunlight and moonlight; Jaemin with the brightest smile that never fades no matter what – like a beacon of hope within suffocating darkness.

Jeno just chuckles wordlessly and scoots over to Jaemin's side until their arms are pressing against each other, and that makes Jaemin shut up. The ferris wheel pod rocks and tilts due to their weight distributed unequally to only one side but neither of them minds.

There follows silence, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the air like it's something tangible, as if you could reach out and feel it under your touch. But it's not awkward, nor intimidating; rather, it's strangely reassuring. They don't have to say it out loud for each other to know it; it's exactly what home feels like.

Na Jaemin; Jaemin who Jeno is with doing things he’s never done before, like having fun, breaking rules and perhaps, falling in love -

Because he only needs one star to light up his darkest nights.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: [@jaem_kr](https://twitter.com/jaem_kr) | curiouscat: [nowomin](https://curiouscat.me/nowomin)
> 
> i love nomin and jeno's eyesmile is rly precious thats all


End file.
